


Two Princes

by Poi



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Epistolary, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-30
Updated: 2006-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-02 11:16:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poi/pseuds/Poi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's going to be an interesting marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Princes

**Author's Note:**

> Pillarchallenge #19 - AU.

_ **To: His Royal Highness Tezuka Kunimitsu, Crown Prince of Seigaku, etc.** _

Prince Kunimitsu,

Thank you for your letter. It was very polite. As you say, since we are apparently to be married it is only sensible for us to get to know each other, and I would hate not to be sensible about leaving my home and my family and making the two thousand mile journey to your country next year in order to marry a complete stranger.

I am sure you are correct that our joining will be a blessing for both our nations. My father, in particular, is constantly saying what a blessing it will be.

Thank you also for your kind betrothal gift. It is very shiny. I have never seen so many jewels in one place. The entire palace is extremely jealous of me; no-one else has one of these. It must be very rare.

I originally wished to display it in my quarters, but unfortunately birds kept knocking themselves unconscious on the windows trying to get at it. I have moved it into the bathroom, where it brightens things up considerably. I hope you don't feel this is disrespectful.

You mention a desire for me to use your gift in our correspondence but I regret I am at a loss as to how to do this, unless I cut open a vein on one of the emeralds and use the blood to write with. I am using a pen instead. I hope that is acceptable.

I am afraid my own betrothal gift can not compare. I must admit we do not really make things like your gift here. The closest thing we have is a Gidden Throwing Ball, one of which I duly enclose. As you will see a Gidden hardly has any jewels on it at all, but they are quite rare all the same. A Gidden will hit anything you aim at, with twice the force you use to throw it, and then return to you. They can be quite useful, especially if you don't have very good aim.

I also enclose a book on the grammar of the Tenisu language which I hope will be of interest to you.

Yours sincerely,

Echizen Ryouma  
Prince of Tenisu, etc, whatever.

*

"Goodness. What an _interesting_ marriage you're going to have, Tezuka," Fuji murmured over his shoulder. Kunimitsu shot a dark look at him and folded the letter back into the neat thirds it had arrived in, its seal – a ferocious, snarling unicorn that looked as if it _ate_ virgins - now broken sharply down the middle. "What in the world did you send him?"

"A pen set," he said, tossing the letter down with a sigh. "But my grandfather apparently felt it was insufficiently impressive and substituted the Orb of Lathar."

Fuji laughed out loud. "Oh _dear_."

"It's a family heirloom," Kunimitsu said stiffly.

"It's a gaudy paperweight that's been an embarrassment to your family since Queen Yensai commissioned it. Your grandfather's a crafty old man, using an excuse like that to get rid of it." Kunimitsu did not think sabotaging his marriage before he'd even met his fiance was especially crafty, but Fuji was clearly too delighted to be argued with. "Not that a pen set would have been much better."

It had been an extremely nice pen set. Kunimitsu had had it made particularly, hoping to communicate his desire for a correspondence between them. Prince Ryouma, after all, was giving up considerably more for this alliance than he was. As he pointed out in his letter: his home and his family both, not to mention the several dangerous months it would take him to travel to Seigaku. Kunimitsu had hoped to reassure him that he would at least have a friend when he arrived. But Echizen Ryouma, it seemed, did not much want to be reassured.

Fuji reclaimed the letter -- and Kunimitsu's chair as well -- and bent his head to it, engrossed. "It seems he's not keen to marry you. Didn't they send him a picture?" Kunimitsu ignored him, even though this approach had never once worked on Fuji. "And what's this about a book?"

Kunimitsu gritted his teeth. "Apparently the language has … evolved, somewhat, in the three centuries Tenisu had its borders closed."

"How irritating for you," Fuji said, eyes glittering too brightly for sympathy. "After all that time you spent learning it." Years, learning a ridiculously complicated language everyone said he'd never have any use for. Weeks, crafting the letter as kindly and diplomatically as possible.

"The Tenisu can hardly be expected to remain unchanged for my benefit."

"His grasp of High Seigakinen is rather impressive though."

"Yes." Which was not irritating either. It was excellent news, that spoke well of his betrothed's education, intelligence and ability to integrate once he came to Seigaku. Even if it seemed likely, at present, that he'd chiefly be using his facility for languages to insult people.

"Is this really a Gidden Ball, do you think?" The object in question was as deadly and beautiful a thing as Kunimitsu had ever seen: crafted of a luminescent grey metal, carved with runes, and glimmering with a dark grey jewel at each 'pole' that even Inui couldn't identify. It was to the Orb of Lathar as his sword was to a butter knife, and fit his hand as perfectly as the former. He couldn't help but be rather taken with it, even while appalled at the message implied in sending a weapon as a betrothal gift.

Fuji held it entirely too carelessly, though Kunimitsu thought he actually looked a little impressed. Millennia, it had been, since anyone in Seigaku knew the making of one; centuries since anyone had laid eyes on one - but Tenisu apparently had sufficient to give them away.

"Let's see."

"Fuji, don't –" But that was never an effective approach with Fuji either, and the ball left his hand in an elegant sweep towards a vase Kunimitsu was really quite fond of.

Had been, he thought with numb resignation, _had been_ quite fond of. He'd also been quite fond of the three pictures, two chairs, bookshelf and lamp the ball went on to destroy before it finally came to rest (nowhere near Fuji's hand) and, although not emotionally attached to them, accustomed to having his door, walls, floor and ceiling intact.

Apparently, there was more to using a Gidden Ball than Prince Ryouma had bothered to include in his letter. How very surprising.

"Goodness," Fuji murmured again, staring at the wreckage of Kunimitsu's study with entirely inappropriate pleasure. "I can't _wait_ to see your reply."


End file.
